The Musician Next Door
by AliFyre
Summary: It's three am, there's a fire alarm, and Vash is pissed. It certainly doesn't help that his hot neighbor Roderich is there either, being generally infuriating(ly gorgeous) all of the sudden. What will Vash do with this sudden newfound attraction? Only time will tell.


_Ring! _

Vash bolts upright in bed, jerked awake by the harsh ringing of the fire alarm. He growls angrily under his breath as he throws his blankets aside and stumbles out of bed, doing his best not to kick anything on his way out of his apartment like he did during yesterday's alarm.

"There's probably not even a fucking fire…" he grumbles as he makes his way to the door. He fumbles near-blind in the dark in search of his coat, knowing full well it was likely raining outside. _Again. _The prospect of going out into the cold rain at - he glances over at the clock - _three am _(fuck that) only serves to make him angrier. "Fuck this, fuck everything, just, _fuck_."

He storms out of his apartment and down the stairs doing his best to ignore everyone around him. He is rarely in the mood to socialize to begin with, but especially not at three (fucking _three!) _in the morning. Once outside, Vash is content to stew in his anger, not even pausing to notice that it's actually rather warm and pleasant out instead of rainy and miserable as he first imagined. In fact, he probably would have preferred rain - his irritation would have been all the more justified in that case. As it is he still glares angrily around him, daring anyone to comment to him that it certainly isn't the _worst _weather for a fire drill. If you ask Vash, any weather is terrible weather for a fucking three am fire drill.

Vash's eyes narrow slightly as his eyes fall on a man who is standing not very far off. _He _is clearly not irritated by the weather, standing out on the sidewalk with nothing but a pair of purple boxers (do they seriously have a fucking _patch_ in them? How cheap can you be?). His arms are crossed slightly against the chill of the early morning but otherwise unperturbed by the early morning disturbance. The man seems like a perfect target for his ire, so Vash locks his gaze on him and silently curses him out with as many insults and expressions of rage his tired brain can come up with. However, his anger quickly fades the longer he stares at the other man and he comes to a very unwelcome conclusion. The man, with his disheveled hair, bright violet eyes and translucent white skin (which Vash vaguely registers as kind of unhealthy looking but cannot bring himself to care), is kind of beautiful. In a fucking weird kind of way.

Vash scowls and stares harder, trying to find something wrong with the man. He is in dire need of sleep or coffee or something with dark circles heavy under his eyes, but he seems perfectly alert nonetheless. Hesitantly Vash moves his eyes down and takes in the rest of him, noting the smoothness of his skin (how the fuck does he have no body hair? Vash wonders in irritation. He secretly hopes it's not because the other shaves, because he shudders to think of someone putting that much time into their appearance) and the softness of his body. There is not an ounce of definition to the man's muscles, and there is a slightest bit of pudge to his stomach that would probably be ticklish if stroked the right way.

Wait, what?

"Fuck," Vash mutters under his breath, realizing he thinks the man standing before him is easily the hottest thing he's ever seen. It isn't like him to imagine stroking anyone anywhere, and not just because he hasn't been with anyone for a long time - intimacy like that just isn't his thing. He likes being alone, thank you very much. Thus, he knows he is very thoroughly fucked if he's imagining tickling this strange man's stomach just a minute after spotting him. There's nothing wrong with him that Vash can find, only a fucking perfect body that just had to turn up at three (_three_!) in the morning. The knowledge only makes him angrier.

"Excuse me?" Vash's heart jumps slightly as he realizes the other man heard him and is now staring at him with narrowed eyes. Now that his face is turned towards him, Vash is able to get a much better look at the other man and finds himself rather offended by the disparaging expression on his face. Already infuriated by the fire alarm and the other man's inexplicable attractiveness, Vash is ready to let loose the insults he had been imagining just moments before. However, the words die on his lips as he takes another glance at the man's face.

Roderich is practically unrecognizable without his glasses, but Vash still kicks himself mentally for not identifying his next door neighbor (much) sooner. Roderich's eyes had not been narrowed out of anger or suspicion, merely as an attempt to clarify his poor vision. Vash is more than slightly horrified by the development. Since when was stupid, prissy, annoying, pompous _Roderich _so fucking hot?

"You didn't hear anything," Vash snaps, hoping the combination of the dark morning and Roderich's poor eyesight will keep the other man from noticing his growing blush. Roderich's brow furrows in suspicion, but he turns away without another word. Apparently the early wake-up could pacify even the most annoying of the world's citizens, Vash thinks. "Fucking ponce," he whispers under his breath when Roderich is fully turned around. Even if he's hot all of the sudden, Vash cannot turn off the past six months of finding the other man incredibly annoying.

Roderich stiffens and turns his head to shoot Vash another glare. Vash, if possible, turns even redder at the attention. He hadn't intended to be heard. Roderich opens his mouth to say something back, only to be cut off by a shout.

"Everything's all clear, there was no fire and shit! You can come inside now!" The building manager's voice booms over the collected crowd of tenants. Vash grimaces - he hardly likes hearing Gilbert's voice during the day, let alone this early in the morning. Roderich snaps his head around, apparently more interested in returning to bed than sassing (because Vash swears sass is the man's default state of being) Vash at this time. This is just as well, because as much as Vash kind of wants to join him in bed, he's still pissed enough about finding out Roderich was hot that he has no interest in acting on it just yet. He needs to take the time to be sufficiently annoyed first. Plus it's still three in the fucking morning, which would kill pretty much anyone's sexual desires if they were even remotely sane.

Thus, Vash trudges back up to his apartment and climbs back into bed, grumbling to himself the whole time. He falls to sleep quickly, but his dreams are filled with the pianist next door and his damnably attractive body. It is only fitting then that Vash is woken some time later by the faint sound of piano through the drifting wall of his apartment, the melody melding into a rather lewd dream he is having about the musician until he realizes it is not Roderich he has under him but rather several pillows. Instantly annoyed (by his own subconscious as much as by the pianist), Vash rolls out of bed and stomps out of his apartment and over to Roderich's door.

"Pompous fucker can't just let people sleep in peace," Vash grumbles to himself, only half referring to the early morning music making. He bangs on the heavy wooden door and waits, tapping his foot impatiently as he stands there in the hallway. The music stops and Vash can hear footsteps approaching him at a leisurely pace, which only serves to make Vash more annoyed. Of course the prissy idiot can't be bothered to open the door in a timely fashion.

"Yes?" Roderich answers the door as any polite, well bred young man would, looking kindly at his guest and offering him a friendly smile. He is much more put together than he was earlier this morning, and with his glasses on he looks refined on top of just plain fucking gorgeous. Vash scowls. Why does he have to be stunning _and _talented _and _well-mannered? Did the idiot think he was better than Vash, offering him a smug smile and playing his fucking piano at stupid-o-clock in the morning?

"Do you have any idea what time it is? There was a fire alarm at three in the fucking morning! Have a little decency!" Vash snapps, his brow furrowed angrily and his lips drawn up in a snarl. Roderich, always insufferable, has the audacity to _smirk. _

"Vash it's one pm. I don't know how long you want me to wait to practice, especially since you woke me up with your… sleep talking."

Vash stiffens. "I don't sleep talk."

Roderich raises his eyebrows, clearly amused. "I don't know if I would give it the credit of being true talking, if that reassures you any. If I didn't know any better I would think you're cheating on that little girlfriend of yours."

Vash colors bright red. "I don't have a girlfriend," he mutters, too embarrassed to properly express his rage at Roderich's insinuations. Had he really been moaning in his sleep?

"Then who's the blonde who's always visiting you? I'm aware she's far too cute for someone as prickly as you, but-"

"That. Is. My. _Sister_!" Vash roars, his fists clenching angrily. He is more than over his earlier embarrassment, and fully prepared to punch Roderich in the face if he says another word. It's really too bad guns aren't allowed in this building, because he wants nothing more than to fire one off to scare some sense into the idiot. Scaring Roderich sounds pretty appealing right about now, especially since hearing the girlish shriek the musician would surely give when he is terrified would likely serve to amuse Vash for weeks into the future. Stupid gun rules always ruined his fun.

Roderich, to his credit, looks properly taken aback. "I'm terribly sorry for the mistake then. Now if you would excuse me, I have a concert tonight and I need to practice."

The door begins to swing shut, and for a moment Vash is torn between wanting to stop him so he can keep staring at those beautiful violet eyes (what the fuck, brain?) and storming away to demonstrate how angry he is. Unsure of which instinct to follow, he simply shouts.

"Wait!"

Roderich pauses and looks around the door at Vash. The amusement is clearly gone from his face, and he looks every inch the arrogant aristocrat that Vash cannot stand. But he's still fucking hot, so Vash overrides his desire to yell at him some more in favor of asking a question.

"Your concert. Where is it?"

Roderich's face twists in confusion. "The downtown amphitheater. Why do you ask? Surely someone like you doesn't spend their saturday nights at classical recitals."

"Someone like me?" Vash intones, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. Roderich doesn't notice.

"Well, I would hardly consider you the cultured type," Roderich replies. It is completely obvious to Vash that Roderich has absoluetly no clue what an asshole he's being, but that doesn't mean that earns him any sympathy. Vash scowls.

"Well fuck you too," he says. "You can take your Chopin ballade and shove it up your ass for all I care then."

Roderich is clearly shocked that Vash had identified what he had been playing, but Vash decides he is in no mood to continue the conversation. Turning on his heel, he walks back to his apartment and stamps his feet the whole way, doing his best to accentuate how angry his is as he walks. Stupid fucker thinks he's uncultured. Vash will show him who's the cultured one.

...Which is why Vash finds himself standing outside the amphitheatre later that night, dressed in his nicest clothes and still grumbling angrily. The concert was pretty good, he has to admit, but he really just wants to show Roderich that they're not so different. He at least wants to prove that least that he (Roderich) is not actually better than him (Vash). If he's going to be gorgeous, he's definitely not going to be all superior about it.

Vash is almost ready to give up on waiting when Roderich appears in the doorway of the amphitheatre, looking a little frazzled and carrying several large scores. He appears to be struggling under the weight of the sheet music (of course, Vash thinks with a roll of his eyes), so Vash strides over and holds his hands out. It would hardly do for Roderich to be so distracted by his burden that he doesn't notice Vash.

"Give me those, you're going to break your back," he tells Roderich. Roderich looks at him oddly, and tightens his grip on the books.

"Absolutely not, these scores are expensive works of art. What are you doing here anyways?" he demands, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Vash sighs in exasperation.

"Those scores are recently printed reproductions of Chopin and Lizst works, I bet the lot of them are worth a forty bucks. Which you will be wasting if you drop them because you can't carry them right," Vash informs him, gesturing again with him hands. Roderich sighs, but hands the books over. It is hard to miss the relief on his face.

"You have to take my way home now you know," Roderich says, almost daring Vash to give the books back and take a hike. Vash glares back at him, trying his best to maintain his righteous irritation in the face of such an attractive man. It's pretty fucking difficult. "Also you never answered me. Why are you here?"

"To prove you're not more cultured than me," Vash quips, shifting the books in his arms. "C'mon, I'm parked over in the back lot."

"That seems an awfully petty reason to come to a concert," Roderich sniffs, following Vash as he begins to wander over to his car.

"Well then forget I said anything," Vash snaps back. "Maybe I just wanted to hear someone decent playing some Liszt." God, how can someone so attractive be so infuriating? He is beginning to regret even coming to this damn thing. Roderich hardly seems worth impressing, especially after this cold reception.

"Although I am impressed you know the value of my scores so well. Perhaps I should have given you more credit," Roderich admits. They have made it to Vash's car, and he can feel Roderich's eyes on him as he shifts the books into one arm to unlock his vehicle.

"Fuck yeah you should," Vash grunts as he opens a door and places the books on the passenger seat. "Now get in."

Much to his surprise, Roderich gets into the car and does not comment or complain about how old it is. Vash is always ready to defend his choice in transportation (I need a car for work and this piece of garbage is _cheap _so get off my fucking case about it), and he finds himself a little disappointed that Roderich doesn't ask. Half the fun of the other man is antagonizing him.

Of course, the other half of the fun is looking at him, and since the roads are pretty empty this time of night Vash can steal as many glances back at Roderich as he wants in the rear-view mirror. By the time they have returned to their building, Vash has still not gotten over how nice Roderich looks in the low light of evening, and Roderich looks like he is about to fall asleep. Vash, still determined to prove he is just as sophisticated as that pompous ass will ever be, takes care to open the door for Roderich and allow him to step out of the car like the dainty ponce that he is. He walks beside the musician as they make their way up the stairs to their apartments, carrying the other man's music in one arm and occasionally steadying him as he sleepily walks with the other. Whenever they touch, Vash feels a little flush work its way up his neck. He hopes Roderich is too tired to notice.

It is difficult for Vash to let Roderich enter his apartment alone when they finally get there. This thought alone would be embarrassing enough if it had just been sex he was after, but he finds as he hands the books over and wishes the other man a good night that he also wants to make sure he gets to bed okay and tuck him in properly. He's just too cute when he's this tired (what the fuck?). It takes all of his self control not to shove Roderich away and make a break for his apartment when he has this realization. As it is he's slightly stiff and awkward as he makes his final goodbye, and when he's finally back alone in his apartment he bangs his head against the wall a couple times out of sheer frustration. He does _not _want to impress the stupid musician, he does _not _think he's cute, he does _not _want to tuck him in, and he most certainly doesn't want to fuck him into his mattress.

Except he totally does, as fucking stupid as it is. But, since Vash is better than just banging someone he barely knows, he decides that tomorrow will be the real beginning of his quest to get to know Roderich better. Either Roderich will end up annoying the shit out of him and he'll get over these dumb feelings, or he'll fight his way into the man's good graces (and his bed). Either way he wins, Vash figures.

Mind made up, Vash makes his way to bed, hoping that tonight he manages to sleep _silently_. He also swears that if there's another fire alarm he's going to fucking murder someone.

* * *

><p>AN: I am trying a new style here, so feedback would be very much appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!


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